Courageous Idiot
by QueenBlueLake
Summary: Steve couldn't shake the feeling he had seen this loud, wheat blonde man before. And that there was an important reason why he should remember him.
1. Chapter 1

Captain Steve Rodgers, or Captain America to strangers who thought he was long dead, drove into his old neighborhood in Brooklyn. It was extremely strange, to say the least, to see all of the past and future mixed together. No- past and _present_, Steve had to keep reminding himself.

When he looked back on it, it was fitting to see that man in the place where he was.

Steve had been walking around, seeing if any of his old hangouts still existed. It wasn't healthy, he knew, but he felt too nostalgic to _not_ look for them. He was happy to find that the old diner he went to as a kid was still alive and going strong. Well, maybe not going strong... But at least it wasn't closed. They probably kept it open simply for the "retro" aspect of it.

He slid onto a bar stool and observed the place. Most of the small restaurant had been redone, which was to be expected. They had expanded it, adding room for a few more tables, and replaced the tile with some of similar design. All in all, the diner didn't look too different. they even had a few of the old ads that hung on the wall back in his time framed and put in the same places.

"What can I get you, sweetheart?" a perky waitress asked him, her pad and pencil poised in her hand.

"Just a cheeseburger and a Coca-Cola, thanks."

"Okay, it'll be right up!"

She quickly brought back his drink. He sipped it, just watching the people around him. Everyone was in a hurry nowadays, always focusing on what they needed to do next. Half the people were chattering away on their cell phone things. In fact, the only people he could see that were really just enjoying the present moment were the two men in the corner nearest him.

They were sitting on the same side of the booth, their shoulders nearly touching against each other. The man on the inside was smaller than the man next him, probably around twenty-three years old, with messy blonde hair, grass green eyes, and eyebrows that were similar to caterpillars. He wore a mint green shirt with a sweater vest that matched his eyes. Looking at him, Steve's thoughts strangely shifted to Peggy, although she and that man had nothing in common other than the British (English, he corrected himself) accent that filtered over to where Steve was sitting.

The man sitting next to the Brit burst into loud, slightly annoying laughter. He was taller than the Englishman, although he looked just a few years younger. He had wheat blonde hair that made the Brit's look positively neat, with a strange cowlick that seemed to defy gravity. He wore fashionable wire framed glasses over his bright blue eyes. Over a light blue T-shirt, the loud man wore an old bomber jacket that looked like it came from Steve's time. Maybe the kid got it from his grandfather.

Steve couldn't shake the feeling he had seen this man before. And not just from the last two months he had spent in this time period, no. He felt like he saw this man a long, _long_ time ago. And that there was an important reason why he would remember him.

After watching the two for a few minutes, it became apparent they were together. The American man would frequently touch his arm, or shoulder, or once even a peck on the cheek, which the Englishman would give a small smile to, and sometimes return. It didn't bother Steve, them being homosexual. Something about this new era was just that everyone was so _open_ with their emotions, as if all the social media had stripped away their sense of privacy. Steve couldn't tell whether he liked it or not, and settled that it was just _different_.

Maybe the man was related to one of the men on his old team? But his face was so familiar. And the jacket was a pilot's, not a soldier's, although the kid could've just bought it.

The couple finished their meals as Steve was halfway done (the Briton had a plate of fish and chips, while the American had an abnormally large hamburger and shake). They paid the bill and got up to leave, the Englishman putting on his coat.

The American walked up to Steve. He stuck out his hand and gave him a sparkling movie star smile. "I never did tell you, even though I should've decades ago. The name's Alfred F. Jones, Captain. And thanks for your service to your country."

"Wha-?" Steve sputtered, but with one last wink, the two men disappeared out the door before he could think of a question.

That wink! Suddenly it rushed back to him, hitting him like a train. Of course! How could he have possibly forgotten?

It had rained the day he first saw that man, back in 1943. Steve and some men were behind enemy lines, trying to get some important information from a Nazi base camp. They were being as stealthy as they could, but the traitorous mud caused them to slip dangerously in the forest. Luckily, the sound of raindrops hitting leaves covered most of the noises they made.

And then there was a horribly loud snap of wood.

The battalion froze, holding their breath. After ten seconds, they gave quiet, relieved sighs and started walking again.

Suddenly, they were surrounded by krauts, firing their machine guns.

"Get down!" Steve ordered, as if it was needed.

It appeared it _was_ needed, though, because one soldier still stood. He shot down every German who was unfortunate to enter his line of vision. When he ran out of bullets, the idiot ran up to the enemy soldiers and started _punching_ them, goddammit. And he _still_ took them down. With his _bare hands_.****  
><strong>**

Had Steve not been busy with his own set of krauts, he would've been gaping like a fish. He wasn't doing to bad himself, but he's a super soldier, not just some courageous idiot.

"Captain, look out-!" the crazy soldier warned.

Steve was forced to the ground. The brave idiot had tackled him. Steve felt something warm drip onto him, filling him with dread. He inhaled sharply when he saw it. The soldier had been shot in the heart, blood blossoming from his wound. And yet the man didn't seem very concerned.

"Aw, mother fucker!" he cursed, following Steve's gaze. "That hurt like a bitch! And now I'm gonna have to get a new uniform!"

The soldier got up, carefully covering his fatal wound by putting on the army jacket he had previously tied around his waist.

He turned to Steve. "Don't tell anyone, okay, Captain? Or else I'll have to change battalions again, and that sucks."

He put a finger to his lips and gave him that Wink.

The impossible soldier did end up changing battalions, although it was unknown where to, before Captain Rodgers could ask him his name, or even thank him for saving his life. Not to mention asking him what the hell had happened

And now the crazy idiot had magically appeared in present-day Brooklyn, presumably without freezing in between.

Steve threw some bills on the counter and ran after the two men.

"Wait!"

* * *

><p><strong>Basically something that had been floating in my head for a while. If you want, I might continue, but I think I'll just leave it up to your imagination.<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

"'Alfred F. Jones'... The name isn't really ringing any bells." Tony didn't look up from the gadget he was currently working on. "Did you try looking it up?"

"Yes!" Steve replied a little too quickly. "I couldn't find anything."

After spending thirty minutes trying to get a computer to work (he didn't know why he even _tried_; he had only just began to grasp the concept of the technology) he had decided to check a phonebook. After finding out New York City no longer had phonebooks, Steve decided to ask Tony.

Tony smirked. "Sure you did. Now, if this guy is as old as you think he is, he's probably in S.H.E.I.L.D's data base- although I wouldn't be surprised if it wasn't, their operating system is a piece of shit... Jarvis!"

"Ready to assist you, sir." the polite, computerize voice responded from one of the many computers Tony had around the room.

Steve shivered. Robots freaked him out, no matter how good their manners were.

"Look up all you can on Alfred F. Jones. Blond hair, blue eyes, glasses?" Tony looked at Steve for confirmation. "Glasses. If you find any secured files. make sure to hack into them. Please and thanks."

"Yes sir."

After an astonishingly short amount of time, a file appeared on one of the computer (Tony had yet to install a Holotable) with the man's name. "TOP SECRET" flashed across the screen in bright red.

"That's him!" Steve said suddenly, looking at the picture of the mysterious man.

"I've detected a secured file from the United States Pentagon." JARVIS stated pleasantly. "I'm starting the hacking program..."

A few minutes passed. Tony continued to tinker, while Steve poured himself a coffee.

"The file cannot be breached." JARVIS said regretfully. "Sir, I'm afraid you're going to have to hack into it manually."

Tony huffed. "It's only been two minutes. Just keep working on it."

"Sir, this is one of the highest security codes in the nation, my hacking program is not capable of such-"

"Yeah, yeah, stop whining. I'll fix you up." Tony wiped his fingers on a rag and started typing on a keyboard.  
>He shot Steve a sly smirk. "Give me two hours. I'll find out who this 'Alfred F Jones' is."<p>

Alfred F. Jones and Arthur Kirkland were sitting comfortably in Alfred's large living room. Arthur was in an armchair near the window, watching the sun rise over New York City. He sipped his cup of Earl Grey and tried to ignore the obnoxious sounds of Alfred gorging himself. Arthur gritted his teeth.

"Mahn, washn't yeshterday fo awefome?" Alfred said excitedly, spraying pancake crumbs everywhere.

"For the most part, yes." Arthur sighed, trying to contain himself. He wasn't exactly overjoyed. "Alfred, don't you think introducing yourself to that man was a little..." Arthur's teacup started clinking in its saucer as his hand shook. "Rash?"

Alfred put his fork down, for once. "Dude, it was _Captain_ freakin' _America_! How could I _not_ introduce myself to a fellow hero?"

Arthur couldn't take it anymore. He felt his face begin to turn red. He was positively trembling.

"Damn it, America!" he jumped up, his teacup falling to the ground and smashing into pieces (Arthur didn't care, it was Alfred's cup anyway, with its increased size and his bloody Star-Spangled design covering its entire surface area). "You can't just _introduce yourself_ to a bloody human you knew seventy years ago! Don't you think he'd get a _bit_ curious? You might have just caused a threat to _your_ security, not to mention mine and everyone else's, you ignorant twat!"

"Britaaaain!" America whined. "Chill your dill, dude! C'mon, he probably doesn't even remember me! Even if he does, Rodgers wouldn't do something like that! I mean, he was a national hero, back in the day. Hell, he was _my_ hero! I had to thank him, at least." America flashed him his trademark grin. "...Have I told you how cute you are when you're angry?"

England sighed and dropped back into the armchair.

"What, are you angry because someone finally has you beat?" Steve smirked.

After five hours of trying to hack into the top secret file, Tony had gotten nowhere. Steve had to actually convince him to go out and get some lunch. One of the conditions, of course, was that they would only go to a five-star that was "celebrity friendly". Basically, a white washed, plush carpeted room filled with important businessmen and actors, and with a strict "no paparazzi allowed" policy.

Tony was paying, of course.

"I'm not 'beat', I'm still working on it! I'll figure out the passcode soon enough." Tony pouted, moving his expensive food around on his plate. "I bet most of those computers are Stark, anyway..."

"Oh, _bloody_ hell..."

Steve straightened, looking around for the familiar voice. All he caught was a head of sand blonde hair walking briskly to the other side of the restaurant.

"What?" Tony asked.

"He's here. Well, not the Alfred man, but the man he was with!" Steve stood up, trying to see over the large, crowded restaurant. "Although I don't see where he went..."

"Check!" Tony ordered.

"Check, please!" Arthur demanded. Once their waitress was gone, he turned to Alfred.

"Did you know they would be here?" he hissed.

"Who're you talking about?" America looked up from his phone.

"Your precious Captain America and Tony Stark!"

Alfred's face lit up brighter than usual. "They're both here? Like, _here_ here? In this restaurant? Dude, that's freakin' awesome!" he squealed.

"No, it bloody well is _not!_" Arthur put his coat on. He sent the waitress back with the paid bill. "Now come along, Alfred!"

He grabbed hold of Alfred's suit jacket and practically dragged the larger nation to the entrance.

"There they are!" Steve pointed across the restaurant to the entrance.

The smaller man was pulling Alfred along, occasionally tossing nervous glances in their direction. Alfred himself was looking around, a star struck look on his face. They were wearing suits. Alfred had a slightly-crumpled blue shirt and red tie under an unbuttoned navy jacket, while the Briton was wearing a tweed jacket with over a light pink shirt and blue tie. Both looked very official. That is, despite the fact that one of them was dragging the other around.

Steve and Tony followed them outside. They soon got within earshot.

"Come _on,_ Alfred! Don't be an imbecile!" the Brit scolded the other man. They had started walking normally. "You _do_ know what's at stake, don't you? You can't risk worldwide security just so you can fangirl over one of your superheroes!"

"Well, you didn't have to literally drag me out of there." Alfred pouted. "And what's with the whole 'Come along, Alfred' thing? Don't you remember the _last_ time you tried to play father?"

The shorter man stopped in his tracks. "What-What did you just say?"

Alfred stopped, looking horrified at what had come out of his mouth. "Oh shit, Arthur, I didn't mean that! I didn't think-"

"That's right. You didn't think." Arthur responded coldly. "You _never_ bloody use your brain! It's always 'Oh, the stock market won't crash' or 'They're too big to fail' or 'Let's stay neutral while_ LONDON BURNS_'_!_"

"That wasn't my fault, and you know it! I would've been there in a heartbeat if my bosses hadn't-!"

"I'll see you at the meeting, Alfred." Arthur hailed a cab.

"Arthur! Wait!"

But he was already gone.

Steve and Tony quickly unfroze and started walking. Once they were far enough away to stay unnoticed but still observe Alfred, they stopped.

"What the hell was that about?" Tony muttered.

"I think they just... broke up." Steve replied.

"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock." Tony said sarcastically. "They were talking about historical events like they were directly involved in them. The Great Depression, the Great Recession-"

"-The London Blitz. Maybe this Arthur guy is whatever Alfred is." Steve concluded.

He looked for the mysterious man, but Alfred F. Jones had disappeared yet again.

* * *

><p><strong>Alrighty, thanks to your awesome feedback, here's another chapter! Obviously I have to continue after this one, or else this would be a horrible ending! Thanks for reading!<strong>

**Oh, and I apologize for any OOCness. I don't know The Avengers that well, and although I really like Captain America and the Iron Man movies, I haven't watched wither one in months.**

****...Did anyone get the joke in Tony saying "no shit, Sherlock"? _Non?_ Not that funny? Awww.


	3. Chapter 3

****As soon as the World Meeting was over, Alfred bounded up to Arthur.

"Arthur, c'mon-!" he begged.

"I've already told you my decision,_ America._" Arthur replied coldly, refusing to use Alfred's human name. "We will _technically_ retain our Special Relationship for the sake of politics, but by no means will we keep it personally." he straightened his papers and slid them into his briefcase. "Now if you don't mind, I'm in a bit of a hurry."

Arthur walked out of the large conference hall. Alfred hung his head for a minute, engrossed in his thoughts. Why was Arthur acting like this? They had gotten in fights like this before, sometimes even worse, but Arthur had never acted this dramatically. "Keep calm and carry on", and whatever. Usually they were back together within _hours_. Never as long as _three whole days_.

Alfred ran after him. He cornered him in a deserted hallway. "Well, I _do_ mind! I've told you I'm sorry- I really mean it! I shouldn't have said any of those things, I mean, it's been a really long time since the Rev- Since those times. That stuff's _been_ dead and buried, for the both of us! So why're you still mad?"

Arthur glared into Alfred's eyes and bit back an outburst. He hadn't seen him act this vulnerable in more than a decade. Alfred's eyes were brimming with tears, although the emotion didn't enter his voice. Swallowing down the growing feeling of guilt, Arthur pushed passed the larger nation. He walked away, not saying a word.

The worst part was that Alfred let him.

.:ili:.

"Ugh! Why isn't this working?" Tony exclaimed, pushing away from the computer. He was still working on the Alfred F. Jones file.

"Hey, if you're getting so worked up about it, leave it be. I'll just ask Nick, he might know who the guy is." Steve shrugged.

"No, that's not the problem! I should be able to get into that file! I'm Tony Stark for fuck's sake, I can hack into anything!" Tony said, frustrated.

"All while being completely modest, of course." Steve muttered sarcastically.

"I heard that!"

Tony flopped into a chair with a frustrated huff. He got back up.

"C'mon," he said, grabbing Steve's arm and dragging him with him. "We're going out for some drinks."

.:ili:.

Steve sighed. He glanced over at Tony, who was sitting in a booth filled with women fawning over him. One of them was giving him a lap dance. Steve blushed and looked away.

He had explained to Tony many times that he actually, really, physically _couldn't_ get drunk. Seeing as this was the sixth time they had gone out like this, the information hadn't sunk in yet. Either that, or Tony just needed someone there that would make sure he didn't wake up naked in a motel on the western coast of Canada the next morning. Again.

The man sitting next to Steve at the bar looked about as drunk as Tony was, just depressed and not covered in supermodels. He had his head against the bar, his face facing away from him. His hand was cradling his fifth Scotch since Steve had been there. He had messy, sand-blonde hair and was quietly sobbing.

Steve suddenly realized he recognized him.

"Wot the bloody 'ell are you lookin' at, mate?" Arthur said without turning his head. He slowly turned toward him.

"Oh, it's _you._" the Brit said with a tone of disgust. He drank the rest of his Scotch, glaring at the empty glass once his was done.

"Bottle of rum, please." he said to the barman, who quickly brought it to him. He took a swig and them set his head back on the bar, his face towards Steve.

Steve sipped his drink casually, wondering how to react. Just as he was about to ask the strange man just _what_ exactly he and Alfred F. Jones were, Arthur spoke.

"You broke her heart, you know."

Steve stiffened. He couldn't- He wasn't talking about Peggy, was he?

"What?" Steve asked.

"You know exactly 'what' I'm talking about, you bloody git!" Arthur snarled. He took another large swig of rum. "I was there, at your bleeding funeral! She couldn't even speak, the poor girl! You left her _broken!_ I could actually _feel_ her, you arse! I hadn't _felt_ the actual feelings of just one citizen since bloody Camelot, God rest the Great King's soul! But I felt her. And she was a bleeding SHELL without you-!"

"There was no other way-!" Steve defended angrily.

"Don't interrupt me, _boy!_ There's always another bloody way! There's ALWAYS ANOTHER WAY, you ignorant child! If you just used you brain maybe you wouldn't have to be here now! Were there no parachutes? Was there no way to safely land the plane? Could you not at least get it to warmer waters-?"

"IF YOU WERE IN THERE YOU WOULD'VE DONE THE SAME THING!" Steve shouted furiously. He slammed his glass down and got up to leave.

"She told me to give you a message, in case you were ever found."

Steve stopped in his tracks.

Arthur took this as a sign to continue. "She had found my file, you see. I had no idea how, but she was a clever girl. She knew what I was, and I suppose she figure'd I'd be one of the first to know if you were ever found alive."  
>"She said she loves you, and she has the time and place when you're ready to dance." Arthur sighed, spotting Steve's shoulders sink under the weight of unreasonable guilt. "And that she doesn't blame you."<p>

The Englishman paid his bar tab and staggered to the door. "However, _I_ still do."

* * *

><p><strong>Howdy, y'all! I really enjoyed writing this chapter, and, per usual, I'll update soon. Thanks to everyone who have FavedAlerted! Special thanks to all who reviewed and Author Faved/Alerted!**


	4. Chapter 4

Alfred was awoken by the blaring ringtone of his phone. Blinking in the bright sunlight, he fumbled for his glasses and shoved them on his face. He jumped up, tripping on a pile of clothes before reaching his cell.

"Yo! Alfred F Jones here!" he announced.

"Sir," a gruff voice said. Alfred checked the caller ID. It was the Secret Service. "we have detected someone trying to breach your personal file-"

"Whoa, whoa, hold up, it's like, seven o'clock in the morning or something. Speak American, bro." Alfred yawned.

The agent sighed. He didn't even bother trying to correct him. "We caught someone trying to hack into your high-security file."

"Oh." Alfred shifted the phone into his other ear. "So? What's that gotta do with me?"

The agent sighed again. He really should have called the country later in the day. "Sir, you could be in danger-"

"Psh, yeah right! They can't take down a hero like me! I'll be fine." Alfred grinned.

"But sir-"

"Hey, it's awesome that you care about me and all that stuff, but seriously, dude. It's not like they can hurt me."

"Sir, I really think you should consider-"

"Thanks for calling bye!" Alfred quickly hung up. He walked to the kitchen and poured himself a ridiculously large bowl of rainbow-colored cereal.

No sooner had he sat down his phone dinged, telling him he had unheard voicemail. Alfred put the phone up to his ear and munched on his breakfast while he listened.

"You bloody Americans!" a familiar, slurred voice shouted into the phone. "Frozen hearts, the lot of you! Why the 'ell do ya drive on the righ'? I almoss got hit by one of your- your- SUVs. ...Yeah. An' you know what else? Your bloody boyfriend Stevie crashed the plane! He just left her! All alone! Jus' like you left me alone, you twat! An'... An'..." England broke down into drunken sobs. After a minute or two, America stopped the message.

Alfred made a note to stop by later, just to make sure Arthur hadn't gotten arrested again. And if he did, Alfred could go in to save him and be all cool and heroic! And then everything would be all better.

America got up and put his empty bowl in the sink. He poured himself another one.

He really wanted to find Captain America and Iron Man. They were real, totally awesome, super-human, superheroes! Well, Tony Stark wasn't super-human. But he was a genius, and that still counted, right? As long as he had his kick-ass suit. 'Cause superheroes had to be cool, not just really crazy smart...

Something clicked in Alfred's brain. Tony was super smart, he was good with computers, _and_Rodgers probably told him about seeing Alfred...

Alfred took out his phone and searched his contacts until he finally landed on the right one. He put the smartphone to his ear and waited as it rang.

"Yo, 'sup Nick?" the nation grinned. "I was wondering if we could arrange a meeting..."

.:ili:.

Arthur hid in the dark sanctuary of his blankets, shivering.

"I'm never," he rasped to himself, his mouth as dry as an oatcake. "_never_ in a million years, going to drink again. This was the last time, I _swear_."

He spent the next four hours or so in and out of fitful sleep. When awake, Arthur took vitamins, coconut water, _anything_to get rid of his crushed brain and upset stomach. He finally decided to devote the day to sleeping it off.

He woke a few hours later to the sound of loud knocking, feeling marginally better.

"Go away!" Arthur shoved a pillow over his head.

The door burst open. Arthur groaned.

"Hey, Iggy! It's me!" Alfred said loudly, striding into the bedroom. Upon seeing Arthur, he stopped. "Dude. You look terrible. Like, worse than you usually look when you're wasted."

"I've told you to stop calling me that ridiculous nickname, git!" the Englishman said from underneath his pillow shelter. "Now bugger off!"

"C'mon, let's get you cleaned up." the American said, ignoring him. Alfred pulled the smaller nation out of bed and dragged him to the bathroom. He shoved the protesting man in the shower and turned the hot water on.

"Tosser! I've got my clothes on!" Arthur shouted angrily.

"No you don't." Alfred said before bursting into laughter.

Arthur looked down. No, he didn't.

"I'll bring some clothes in for you." Alfred said cheerfully, leaving the large bathroom. "After you're all ready, I wanna take you somewhere, 'kay?"

Arthur sighed and shampooed his hair. With America, it was never really a question.

.:ili:.

"This doesn't make up for anything, you know." Arthur said, realizing he was supposed to be angry with Alfred at that moment. He sipped his tea. Alfred had brought him to an actual, proper, British tea room. He was surprised to find that those _existed_ in America, not to mention Alfred actually _taking him_there. Alfred didn't get tea, of course. He was drinking some sort of whipped cream-covered, caffeinated monstrosity out of a straw.

"Sure it doesn't." Alfred grinned, happy that Arthur was happy. He checked his watch. "Aw man, we're gonna be late! C'mon!"

Alfred grabbed Arthur's hand and tore off through the city.

.:ili:.****  
><strong>**

"I've almost got it..." Tony muttered, hunched over a computer.

Steve thought about pointing out Tony's obsession with the file, but decided against it. It's not like he'd listen to him, anyway. Besides, Steve was just as curious about the men as Tony was, maybe even more.

Steve couldn't shake the questions from his mind: What had Peggy known about Arthur? What did Arthur mean about "feeling" citizens? And the one that haunted him the most: Why did Arthur seem like he had such a close relationship with Peggy?

Steve sighed. If Tony didn't break into the file soon, he'd just ask Nick about Alfred F Jones and his friend. But for now, he hated having questions that he couldn't answer.

"I'm going for a walk." Steve said. Without waiting for a response, he marched out of S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters.  
>He only murmured an apology when he brushed past a man wearing a deep green sweater.<p>

.:ili:.

After nearly a mile of bustling past people, (not as much as a human would have, as the Americans unconsciously parted the way for Alfred) Alfred screeched to a stop.

They were in front of a large, gleaming skyscraper. The Jumbotrons and brilliant advertisements of Times Square could be seen down the street. Arthur felt like he recognized the place...

"Wait," he said, examining the building. "Is this your bloody S.H.I.E.L.D. place?"

"Shh!" Alfred grinned. "Not so loud!"

Arthur wrenched his hand away from his. "What, you want to spend more time with your _boyfriend?_Is that why you want me here?" his voice gradually rose to a shout. "You want me to forgive him, is that it? Well, good luck to you-"

He was interrupted by Alfred laughing.

The Englishman shook with anger, not even noticing the man who bumped into him slightly as he walked past. "What is it that you find so bloody hilarious?"

"So _that's_what you've been so mad about!" Alfred smiled playfully. "You're jealous!"

"I'm not-!"

Alfred pulled him into the small alley next to S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters.

"Well, I just wanna let you know," Alfred whispered, his warm breath tickling Arthur's ear. "Even if Rodgers wasn't human, I'd still pick _you._"

"Alfred-" Arthur started to protest, looking at the crowds that passed by. He felt his cheeks burning. The nation sighed and looked the other in the eye. "...Do you mean it?"

America didn't respond, choosing instead to embrace his lips with his.

.:ili:.

The phone that Tony insisted that Steve have buzzed. Steve pulled it out of his pocket, hoping that he wouldn't have to do anything to find out what the buzz ment.

_I got into the file! Get your ass back here!_The screen read.

Steve put it back into his pocket and started running.

.:ili:.

Tony met him in the lobby, looking giddy as a schoolgirl. He was holding a Stark tablet.

"You're never going to believe this..." he said, trying to stay his usual smug self (he was practically squealing). "In fact, if I hadn't met Thor, I don't think _I_would-" Tony stopped abruptly and stared at someone who had come through the door behind Steve.

"We're here to see to Nick!" a familiar, enthusiastic voice announced to the receptionist.

Steve whirled around. Sure enough, the mysterious Alfred and Arthur, hand in hand, were showing the agent at the desk their IDs. They were quickly allowed through.

"Well," Steve muttered. "It's good to see they're back together again."

"C'mon," Tony jerked his head after the men. He turned off his tablet, and the two followed them.

They followed the pair up to one of the many conference rooms. They stood outside, positioning themselves so they could see without being seen.

"Hey Nick!" Alfred burst the door open, earning an eye roll from his counterpart.

And Nick Fury, the stone-faced, somber, monochromatic head of S.H.I.E.L.D., broke into an actual, heart-felt _smile._

Steve shivered.

"Nice to see you, as always, Alfred." Nick said cheerfully. Well, as cheerfully as he was capable. He shook the mysterious man's hand. He turned to Arthur. "And...?"

"Arthur Kirkland." the Englishman filled in, shaking the man's hand in a gentlemanly fashion. "Pleasure to meet you. Alfred talks about your program _very_often."

"So," Alfred said energetically, after the introductions were over. "I just that it'd be cool for you to- Oh, hold up a sec-"

He pulled a smartphone out of his pocket that was blaring a few bars of the Star Spangled Banner.****  
><strong>**

"What's up?" he greeted, turning away from the other two men in the room. Faint, official-sounding voices came from the phone.

"Oh... Yeah? 'K then... I guess the firewalls must be weak, or something." Alfred shot a smirk in what Steve swore was their direction. "...And it was a Stark system? Oh, yeah, that's _totally _surprising... Yeah, well, I'll be fine, bye."

"That was Security. Someone broke into my file, I guess-"

"Alfred!" Arthur gasped. He grabbed the larger man's wrist and started to drag him toward the door. "We need to get you to safety immediately. I'll call my driver, we'll go back to the World Conference room- yes, the Conference room would be best. We should also probably inform your brother to stay on the lookout as well, as you two look so similar... Believe me, this happened to me during my pirate days, and it wasn't pretty in the slightest. Although it did happen to me after the Second World War, and that still turn out relatively well-" he flushed at the memory. "But that was a different circumstance entirely! That was one of my loyalist citizens, but this could be anyone!"

"We'll make all of our Agents available for your protection." Fury added.

"Y'all need to chillax!" Alfred said, laughing. "I'll be fine! And it _is _one of my citizens! Actually, it might even be _two__!_"

He quickly strode over to the door and pulled the two spying men into the room.

"'Sup, dudes! I'm America!"

* * *

><p><strong>Tadaaa~<strong>

**Thanks to everyone who Reviewed/Faved/Alerted/Etc. Love ya!**


	5. Chapter 5

"Sorry... What?" Steve asked, completely confused as to why the strange man would call himself "America". If anything, Steve would have that title, removing the "Captain" from his hero name.

"Wait..." Alfred's grin faded to a quizzical frown. "It _was_ you guys who hacked into my file, right? 'Cause if it wasn't, _then_there'd be a problem."

At the mention of hacking into files, Fury crossed his arms and gave Tony a stern shot back a cocky smirk and a wink.****  
><strong>**

He shook Alfred's hand. "Relax, it was me. It's really great to meet you. Well, after finding out you existed, anyway."

Alfred pumped it enthusiastically. "Seriously dude, pleasure's all mine! I'm such a big fan of you guys! It's awesome to finally meet you for real!"

"Sorry..." Steve apologized again. "I'm a little lost here."

"Steve didn't get a chance to read the file." Tony explained to Alfred, before he could speak.

"Oh! That makes sense!" Alfred beamed. He ran over to the conference table and flipped a chair out. He then jumped on top of it, striking a heroic pose.

"Here we go..." Arthur groaned, putting a hand over his face.

"I'm the land of the free and the home of the brave! And most importantly, I'm the hero!" Alfred announced, an invisible fan blowing his hair. "I'm the personification of the best country in the world: the United States of America!"

He ended the short speech with a thumbs up and a sparkling smile.

"Uh..." Steve said, not knowing what to say.

"America." Arthur sighed. "Just do the typical thing; it always works."

"Fine." Alfred pouted. "It's always way cooler when I do my speech, though."

Alfred jumped down from his makeshift podium and grabbed Steve's shoulders with surprising strength. He locked Steve's eyes in his. Steve felt like he was drowning in the strange man's overpowering gaze. For a short moment, he was more confused than he had ever felt in his life. And then... And then...

And then Steve had no doubt in his mind that what Alfred said was true. He was just too _different_ for it to be false. His eyes were too knowing for his age, his hair was against the laws of physics, and everything about him just reminded Steve of _home._Alfred F Jones was the candy shop in Brooklyn his mother took him to when he was little, he was the Mississippi River, the Hudson, the Great Lakes. He was California, New York, baseball, soccer, football, and the Fourth of July. No matter how impossible it seemed, this man was the United States of America.

"Whoa." Steve breathed.

"Hell yeah!" America said, pumping his fist in the air. "I love it when they do that!"

Arthur sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.****  
><strong>**

"I apologize on Alfred's behalf." he turned to Tony and offered his hand, who shook it. "Allow me to introduce myself properly. I am Sir Arthur Kirkland, knight under her majesty Queen Elizabeth and royal family. I am the personification of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, formerly the glorious British Empire and the territory of Britannia."

"...But you can just call him Iggy." Alfred jumped in, slinging his arm over Arthur.

"No, you bloody well may not!" Britain shouted, angry and embarrassed that America had ruined his moment.

Nick interrupted the two nations before it turned to blows. "If you don't mind, gentlemen, I have to lecture a certain _someone_on the consequences of ignoring laws." he said, giving Tony another withering look.

"Hey," Tony said, putting his hands up in defense. "didn't say I _couldn't_hack it."

America laughed loudly and clapped Nick on the shoulder. "Don't go too hard on him, bro!"

Nick left the room, Tony in tow.

Alfred's phone began to blare "O Canada".

"Sorry, guys." Alfred said quickly before answering it. "Hey, Mattie! What's going on?"

Arthur cleared his throat awkwardly. He offered his hand to Steve.

"I believe I owe you an apology, Captain." he said sheepishly as America chattered on. "My behavior last night... It wasn't _proper_, to say the very least."

"Oh... It's okay." Steve said. He shook his hand. Arthur- no, _Britain_- couldn't really be blamed for what he said when he was drunk. And as the nation still seemed to be nursing a hangover, Steve assumed he had been pretty sauced.

Steve suddenly realized how strange it was- a _nation_ having a _hangover_. He decided it would be best if he didn't think about it too hard.

"'K, we'll be there in a sec!" America's voice managed to invade Steve's thoughts before he dropped his phone into his jacket pocket. He bounded over to them.

"Ha! Germany's gonna bust a vein this time!" he said cheerfully to Britain. "We gotta run, we're like, an hour or something late-"

_"WHAT?"_ the Englishman jumped. "There's not even supposed to _be_ a meeting today!"

'Yeah, about that..." America laughed awkwardly. "I thought I'd tell you in person, but I kind of totally forgot..." ("You're late to your OWN meeting?" Arthur shouted) he turned to Steve and saluted with a smile. "It was so freakin' awesome to meet you guys! See ya later!"

He grabbed Britain's arm, and in a blur of brown and green, they were gone.

Steve sank into a chair, trying to wrap his mind around, well, _everything_.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry for making you wait so long just for this little chapter... I decided to group the other half of this onto the next one (which will make it faster to write!)<strong>

**Thank you guys for being so awesome! **


	6. Chapter 6

Steve sighed, feeling like he could drop to the floor and sleep for forty hours straight. He was having a rough week. Hell, he was having a rough _month_. Day after day of the same frustrations of living out of his time were starting to take a toll on him. For the first time in a long while, Steve felt completely alone, trapped in a world that was both extremely familiar and extremely strange.

Tony set a glass of bourbon in front of him before pouring a some for himself.

Steve looked up. "Isn't it a little early for drinking?"

Tony shrugged. "It's noon, that's late enough."

"So," the millionaire said with a smirk. "You look like a complete wreck. What's up?"****  
><strong>**

"Well..." Steve sighed again. He took a sip of his whiskey, carefully thinking of how he could word what he was feeling. "It's been tough. Everything's just so... fast. It's like everyone's always rushing to get to nowhere at all."

Tony smirked. "Well, the faster you go, the cooler you look."

Steve gave a noncommittal shrug. He looked out of the glass wall of Tony's luxurious penthouse, admiring the skyline. Even the Empire State Building (which couldn't have been more than a quarter mile away from where they sitting) was flashier than he remembered. He couldn't tell if that was a bad or good thing.

"Cheer up, Champ." Tony patted him on the shoulder. "It's still pretty great, don't you think? Mostly thanks to me, of course."

Steve laughed. "You wish-"

Tony's phone rang, interrupting them. He took it out of his suit pocket, checking the holographic display.

He rolled his eyes and slid the phone back into his pocket. "It's just S.H.I.E.L.D."

"'Just S.H.I.E.L.D.?'" Steve raised an eyebrow. "What if it's important?"

"If it was really important, they'd send someone in person."

Steve regarded him critically as the phone kept ringing. Tony just sipped his drink. After about a minute of rock music, the device finally shut up.

"See? They didn't even hack my programs. Fury probably just needed his shoes tied, or something."

Steve's cell phone started ringing. He answered it and put it up to his ear.

"This is Captain Rodgers speaking."

"This is Agent Smith of S.H.I.E.L.D.. Is Stark with you?"

"Yes, is here with me now." Steve shot him a smirk. Tony looked absolutely betrayed.

"I've been told to inform you that there is an important visitor here to see you both."

"We'll be right over."

"Do I _have_to?" Tony whined when Steve hung up.

Steve grabbed him by the sleeve. "C'mon..."

.;i;.

"So what's this all about?" Tony said as soon as he burst through the front entrance.

"He's in your lab, sir." an agent responded.

"But- What-" Tony sputtered. "You let him into _my lab?_"

"I'm just following orders, sir."

"But-"

"Thank you." Steve said with a smile, steering Tony away. They rode the elevator up to the fortieth floor, Tony sulking the whole time.

"This better be pretty damn important." Tony muttered bitterly as they came up to the door.

Just as Tony reached for the handle, the door sprang open.

"'Sup, guys?" their nation greeted cheerfully. He beamed. "You doing anything for lunch?"

.:i:.

Steve adjusted his tie nervously. It was one thing to meet Alfred and Arthur (although he was still trying to figure it all out), but Alfred wanted to introduce them to the _entire G8_. It was just a casual get together in a nice restaurant, Alfred had explained to them, not that it made Steve feel any better. Apparently the restaurant was generally close by, since they were walking.

Tony was chatting with the nation about one of his new projects, which Alfred seemed pretty excited about. Steve tuned it out, mostly because he could hardly understand what they were talking about. Although, soon, he realized the topic had switched to himself.

"But dude, have you ever seen any of the Captain's old film reels or anything?" Alfred asked Tony. Without waiting for him to reply, he continued. "They definitely didn't do him justice, they were totally fake! You totally kicked ass!" Alfred said to Steve excitedly. "You still do! Did you know he was the first superhero? He took down like, a total crap-ton of these crazy super-Nazis by himself!"

Steve turned away to hide his blush.

"Yeah," Tony seemed more amused at Steve's embarrassment than jealous at Alfred's gushing. "My dad told me about that."

Steve looked at him inquisitively. Tony hardly ever mentioned his father; it didn't seem like they had had the healthiest of relationships. He was surprised that Howard had even told his son about him.

"He used to tell me stories about you." Tony continued, meeting Steve's gaze. "Back when I didn't know enough to leave him alone when I couldn't sleep." he smirked. "You _were_pretty cool for your time, I'll give you that."

"'Pretty cool'? He was awesome!"

"I was just doing what had to be done." Steve muttered, embarrassed by all the attention.

"You're just being modest- Oh hey, we're here!" Alfred pushed through the double doors of a small, but nice, Italian restaurant.

"Feliciano got to pick where we ate today." he smiled at them over his shoulder, as if that would explain anything.

The nation led them through the classy main dining room to a hallway near the back. They came up to mahogany doors with frosted windows.

Steve became even more nervous than before. What would the other nations think of him? They'd probably love Tony, with his natural (if conceited) charisma that made even the people he annoyed the most put up with him. But Steve? All he could think of that he had going for him was his reputation...

Tony caught his eye. Smirking at his friend's obvious nerves, Tony gave him a cheeky wink. They'd be fine.

Alfred pulled the large doors open with a flourish. "The hero has arrived!"

Steve was expecting a formal, important meeting-like atmosphere, where six pairs of judging eyes would turn on them (he had already met Arthur-er, Britain, but six was still a lot of people). What _was_ inside the room was pure chaos.

Arthur was sword fighting (where did they get real swords from?) with a man that had long, blonde, wavy hair. They stood on top of the large table, kicking aside empty or discarded pasta dishes as they fought viciously. Seeing the look on the Englishman's face, Steve made a note to never get him angry. A short Japanese man was trying to calm everyone down. A bulking man with a scarf sat calmly at the table, a pleasant-yet-somehow-frightening smile fixed on his face. Finally, a tall blonde man sat slightly away from the rest, looking like a vein was about to burst on his forehead. A shorter auburn-hair man was leaning his head on his shoulder and holding his hand lovingly, but was babbling loudly in his ear, which didn't seem to help his partner's current condition.

"Hey, Al. Glad you could make it, eh?" a quiet voice said next to them. Tony and Steve jumped. It was as if the man had appeared out of nowhere.

At first glance, it was hard to differentiate between him and Alfred. Although upon closer inspection, they weren't exactly the same. Twins, maybe. The man had slightly longer hair than Alfred, and instead of having a strange cowlick, he had one long curl sticking out of his hair. He had oval wire-framed glasses (opposed to Alfred's square ones), and had periwinkle eyes, while Alfred's were bright blue.

"Hey, Mattie!" Alfred beamed and threw an arm around his double's shoulders. He gestured at Steve and Tony. "These are my friends, Captain Rodgers and Tony Stark! They're like, totally awesome superheroes! Oh, guys, this is my twin bro Matt, he's not as cool as me, ("Hey!") but he's still pretty great! He's Canada-!"

"EVERYBODY SHUT UP!" the tall blonde man shouted, pounding his hands on the table.

The room fell into silence. Everyone returned to their seats. Even Alfred was quiet.

"_Gut._ Finally..." The tall blonde sighed, the vein still pulsing against his skin. "Now, ve have a meeting to get back to in fifteen minutes, and if ve don't discuss the topics we were planning to during our lunch, ve will be hours behind schedule!" he looked up at the two nations that were still struggling against each other's sword.****  
><strong>**

"Germany!" the auburn-haired man sang, waving a hand in the air.

The nation (Germany, Steve supposed) sighed again. "Yes, Italia... Vhat is it?"

"We should have a longer break! I'll-a make us some more pasta, and we could just talk about all that boring stuff tomorrow! It'll be-a fun, like a party! A pasta party! Ve~"

"No, Italy..." Germany rubbed his temples. "Japan, please tell me you have a _productive_ idea."

The small nation stood up and gave a polite bow. "I do not believe you have noticed, but America-san is here. He brought guests, as well."

"Alright! Thanks, Kiku!" Alfred pumped his fist in the air. "Guys, I'd like you to meet Captain Steve Rodgers and Tony Stark, aka Captain America and Iron Man! They totally saved the world with their awesomeness! Oh, and they know who Arthur and I really are, so y'all can be chill around them."

The nations gaped at America in disbelief and horror, almost completely ignoring the humans accompanying him.

Finally, after a few tense seconds slowly ticked passed, the auburn-haired man (Italy, was it?) stood up and skipped over to them.

"Ciao!" he said happily, shaking Steve's and Tony's hands in turn. "I am Feliciano Vargas. It's-a nice to meet you! I'm Northern Italy, and _mi fratello_ Romano is the South. He's not here right now, he's spending time with Antonio. Ve~ Did you guys save the world from Pictonians? That happened a few years ago- everything was all white and everyone was sad, but then I drew faces on them and everyone was happy again! They didn't attack you, did they? They said they liked us! Maybe they were just coming for a visit and you just mistook them, right? Ve~ They turned out to be pretty nice, so hopefully you didn't really hurt any of them, but it'd-a be bad if they hurt you-"

"-Italy, you are babbling again." Germany placed a hand on the nation's shoulder. He gave a resigned sigh before holding out his gloved hand to the humans. "I am Ludwig Beilschmidt, representative of Germany."

"Steve Rodgers." he shook it. Steve tried to push all judgement from his mind. The War was almost seventy years ago, which is a long time. Besides, Steve didn't know what Ludwig's opinions were back then, and it didn't matter anyway, since he was obviously perfectly friendly at the current time. "It's nice to meet you both."

"Tony Stark." Tony introduced himself with a smug look on his face. "I love your cars." Germany seemed to brighten instantly, and they soon broke into a conversation about complicated engineering and other confusing topics.

The other nations seemed much friendlier after that. Japan introduced himself politely as Kiku Honda. The huge man with the scarf, Ivan Braginski, also known as Russia, occasionally shot Steve creepy glances; Steve tried to avoid him as much as possible.

"Oh, _mon Dieu_, I can not believe zat _Amérique_ did not introduce me to such attractive young men before zis moment!" the man that had been sword fighting with Arthur came up to them."I am France, ze country of _amour! _ You lovely gentlemen can just call me Francis, of course!"

France placed a kiss on each of their cheeks, then added another on Steve's lips.

"I 'ave not forgotten what you did during ze last war, Captain." he purred, his warm breath tickling Steve's ear. "I believe I owe you for zat. It ees time I repay you..."

"Whoa!" Steve choked in alarm as he felt a hand grope his penis through his pants. He felt limp, powerless to the man in front of him.

Tony came over, a smirk on his face. "Can I join?"

"Of course, _mon homme de fer._"

"Tony," Steve hissed. "This isn't funny!"

"FROGFACE WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT MOLESTING PEOPLE YOU BLEEDING PERVERT!" Arthur yelled, punching France straight in his face.

"_L'Angleterre_, you know you are just jealous!" the Frenchman laughed, but back away all the same, clutching his already healing broken nose.

Arthur turned to Steve. "Are you alright, Captain?"

"Y-Yeah..." Steve lied, still trying to get over the trauma of almost being raped by a _country._

Arthur grimaced. "If it's any consolation, it happens to everyone at least once a conference."

"Yo, dudes! Is this meeting killer, or what?" Alfred said joyfully, standing in between the heroes with an arm around each of their shoulders. "Tony, you totally gotta talk to Kiku, he's super cool and in love with robots and stuff- You'd totally like him! I think he really wants to talk to you, but he's just too polite to bring it up from the get-go..." America's eyes widened suddenly. "Oh no..."

"What? What is it?" Steve asked nervously, feeling the nation start to go slack.

"Get him in a chair- Now!" Arthur ordered. He quickly pulled one over, and the heroes lowered their nation gently into it.

"Jarvis," Tony said into his phone. "send me my suit; I think some shit's about to go down. Have it grab some of Steve's gear, too."

Steve turned his attention back to his nation. Alfred had started shivering, and looked _scared_, dammit. What could possibly make someone who took a bullet to the heart _scared?_

"Oh shit," America said shakily. "Oh shit, not again..."

"What is it, love?" England asked him softly. He caressed his head with his hand, seeming to be checking for a fever. "The economy? Politics?"

America shook his head. "No, it's-"

Suddenly, a large explosion shook the building.

Alfred spasmed in his chair, with Arthur struggling to pin him down. His eyes rolled up into his head. The larger nation fell limp.

"America!" England cried out. The other nation didn't stir. "Bullocks."

"Matthew!" the Briton barked.

Alfred's twin stepped forward from the group of silent onlooking nations.

"Get Alfred to a hospital! NOW! Use Code 76!"

Matthew nodded, his face as white as snow. He pulled out his phone, and with shaky fingers dial 911.

"Feli, go with him." Germany whispered. Italy nodded. His bottom lip quivered.

"Stark!" England turned his gaze onto Tony. Steve could see fire in his eyes. "How far away is the Empire State Building from here?"

"Two blocks."

"Those bastards are going to rue the day they messed with the British Empire." Arthur growled ferally under his breath. He raised his voice. "Are the paramedics here yet?"

"But what happened?" Steve asked before he could stop himself. "Why isn't he healing?"

"Idiot! You think that's a flesh wound?" England said scornfully. "America is under attack!"

* * *

><p><em>mon homme de fer- my man of iron<em>

**So, I probably trashed this chapter seven times in total. Sorry for the wait, I also wanted to see The Avengers before writing again.**_  
><em>

**Thanks for all the Favs, Alerts, and Reviews~!**


	7. Chapter 7

Matthew sat in the back of the ambulance, clutching his brother's hand. He wished he could help some other way, but he just hated fighting so much. He would be useless. But what if something happened, and the other nations somehow needed him, eh? It wasn't very likely, but still-

"Everything will turn out alright, Mathieu." France said, rubbing his back in a soothing motion. "_Amérique _will be fine, you'll see. It is up to us to get him to a 'ospital. Don't worry about anything else. Alfred needs his _frère._"

At first he was worried that three people would be too many, but now Matthew was glad that his former caretaker was with them. Other than Alfred and Arthur, Francis was the only person who could calm him down when he worried too much. It also helped that he was the only person France wasn't a complete pervert around. Most of the time.

"Yeah! And I'm sure that Germany and the others can take on whatever's making Ameri- Oh, I'm-a sorry, I meant Alfred- like this! America's friends are there, too! He said that they-a saved the world, right? So they'll be able to help out a lot!" Feliciano said optimistically. "So Americ- Alfred will be out of this in no time, am I right?"

He looked down at his twin. Alfred was still breathing heavily, and the heart monitors were beeping far too fast. Cuts had appeared on his forehead; thankfully they weren't very large, so none of the city's landmarks had fallen, but they were either damaged, or a few less important buildings had crumbled. Matthew made a note to call his boss- if the attack lasted for much longer, they would re route the incoming New York flights. Just like that other time... But this was completely different. Right?

Matthew looked up at the Italian. He tried to put on a smile. "R-Right."

.:i:.

Of course it was aliens. Again. Steve was starting to wonder if it would be annual occurrence.

They flew down in massive numbers, the foreign transports glittering as they descended from the hulking mothership. Tony tried to fly close and attack it, but it seemed to have some kind of shield around it. The missiles and blast that he shot exploded harmlessly at a safe distance from the large spaceship.

A large party of aliens landed near Steve. He readied his shield, holding it up against the laser blasts. He threw it, knocking them to the ground before it returned to his arm like a faithful attack dog.

Steve fought off another group and looked around. He was stunned by how easy fighting was for the nations. He, a trained superhero, looked clumsy in comparison. England cut down enemies with his cutlass three at a time, gracefully, as if it were a dance, and ignored the blue blood that spattered his face and clothes. Japan sliced them with his glinting katana, then seemed to disappear, only to catch them by surprise in a completely different spot. Germany shot rounds after rounds of bullets from his revolver, never missing, and never taking more than half a second to reload. Russia- hell, he was _smacking_them, with a ghastly smile on his face the whole time.

A violent explosion threw Steve into the air. He ducked and rolled when he hit the ground, coming to a stop with his shield over his back to protect him from falling debris.

Steve looked up to see a gloved hand offered out to him. He grasped it, and the person quickly pulled him to his feet.

"Are you injured?" Germany asked him swiftly.

"No, I'm fine." Steve assured him.

"_Gut._" the nation said. Suddenly he shoved the superhero down. He took three successive shots over his head. Behind him, Steve heard the _thunk_of extraterrestrials hitting the ground uncomfortably close to him.

Steve breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks."

.:i:.****  
><strong>**

"Here, _mon cheri_." France said, holding out a styrofoam cup full of what appeared to be hot chocolate. "Drink zis."

"_M-Merci_." Matthew took it with shaking hands. He just held it, appreciating its warmth and weight. The Canadian looked back to his brother.

He hated seeing him like this. Alfred's normally sunkissed skin was frighteningly pale, and coated with a sheen of cold sweat. His eyes would flutter occasionally, giving false hope, but they would soon clench tightly with pain.

An explosion boomed outside the window of the bleak hospital room, rattling the window frame like thunder. Alfred gave a quiet moan as another small cut appeared on his forehead, causing a blossom of red to bloom through the fresh bandage.

Matthew looked away. New York was almost as important as Washington, D.C. when it came to America's cities. In fact, Matthew thought that for Alfred himself it was more important, since, although getting your heart burnt out (literally) is a horrible, unimaginable pain, at least you can still function. When New York was attacked it brought Alfred face first into the ground, although the physical scars of a non-capital city healed much, much faster (even if the mental ones didn't). Matthew gulped, thinking of the almost invisible burn marks that, in just the right light, still shone faintly on his brother's chest.

"Oh, _mon petit ours de d'érable_... " France crooned gently. The older nation pulled up a chair beside the Canadian. He put his arm around him in a comforting half-embrace.

After a few moments, Matthew got up and, with shaking hands, opened the window. He was greeted by the sights and sounds of battle that was only a few blocks away. He gaped open-mouthed at the glittering alien ships floating above the great city. He tore his eyes away and shut the window quickly, feeling nauseous.

The Canadian fell back into the chair next to his injured brother. He held his head between his hands.

He just hoped that the attack wouldn't last for much longer.

.:i:.

England scowled, cleaning slicing through another alien. Why could these things never end democratically? What was this, the third extraterrestrial attack within two years? Although the humans couldn't seem to remember the Pictonian invasion. The next meeting should focus on increasing positive intergalactic relations. Oh, bloody hell- he had started to sound like one of Alfred's movies.

That thought reminded him of why he was fighting in the first place. He swung his cutlass with even more vigor. The way he was fighting brought back memories of long coats, treasure, and the ocean breeze.

"WOOHOO!" Stark cheered as he zoomed past, and explosion followed behind him.

Britain rolled his eyes. Stark and Rodgers alone could make up Alfred's entire personality. Stark had an ego almost larger than his nation's, and the originality of his ideas were certainly parallel to America's (although Stark's inventions actually worked). Rodgers personality, however, was more like that of Canada's, but the man practically pissed Stars and Stripes. He was the American gentleman from the past, whose only flaw was his idiocy in pressured situations, such as, say, unnecessarily crashing Nazi planes and leaving a certain English women grieving him on the shore.

The island nation glanced over at the human Captain. He seemed to be handling himself pretty well in the fight. Although, was he working with Germany? Yes, the superhero and Ludwig were fighting back-to-back, deflecting bullets on one side and shooting them on the other. That was surprising, to say the least. Of course, they were both very well mannered, but their history...

Suddenly, Arthur caught something out of the corner of his eye. He quickly turned toward it. Seeing what it actually was, the nation's stomach dropped to the floor.

"Oh bloody _hell_... " he muttered, trying to get to the boy in the blue sailor hat as fast as possible.

.:i:.

"Hello, Jerk-land!"

Steve whipped his head around, searching for the sound. It kind of sounded like a kid-

"_Mein Gott,_vhat is he doing here?" Germany said, horrified.

Steve turned around. Sure enough, about a hundred meters away stood a boy, no older than twelve, wearing a sailor outfit and waving his blue sailors' hat at someone behind them. He started running toward them, clambering down the slopes of debris.

"Stay here, I've gotta get that kid to a safe place." Steve told Ludwig.

"Wait-!" the nation protested, but Steve was already gone.

He got to the kid just as the boy jumped to solid ground.

"Son, you've got to get home, it's not safe here-" the Captain started.

"Don't worry!" the boy exclaimed, beaming. "I'm here to save you all!"

"No, we've got it handled, you _need_ to go home right now-"****  
><strong>**

To Steve's astonishment, the kid pulled out a bazooka. A full-out, entirely real, _bazooka gun_.

"What the hell?"

"See?" the kid continued, ignoring him. He shifted the gun onto his shoulder and grinned. "You might want to step away; Gilbert said these could get quite loud."

"...What-? No! Wait-!"

With a deafening boom, a rocket shot out of the slim tube, heading straight toward the mothership. It exploded on impact, taking out a large chunk of it. The aliens paused, watching the remains fall to the ground. Then, one by one, the turned toward the boy.

"Whoops..." the boy gave a sheepish look. "I hit it in the wrong spot..."

Steve would he wondered how the kid had gotten a missile through the force shield, but he ignored him, focusing instead on the large mass of extraterrestrials now charging toward them. "Get behind me."

"What?"

"NOW!" Steve shoved the child behind his back and held up his shield as soon as they started to fire. The reflected lasers took down most of the frontline, but they just kept coming.

He threw his shield, taking down another line of aliens. He caught it, but it wasn't soon enough; a laser bolt ripped through his leg.

"Aaagh!" Steve cried out. He fell to the ground, not able to support himself. It was excruciating pain; the bolt was electrifying him while lodged into his muscle.

Three aliens circled them, wondering which one to attack. Steve looked at the boy. He was quivering with fear, his skin pale and his blue eyes wide. His sailor uniform was stained with Steve's blood. He crawled backwards until he was next to the superhero.

"Take it," Steve managed to say, shoving the shield into the boy's hands.

"B-But-"

The first alien took aim at the young boy's face. The inside of the gun barrel was green, charging up...

And then suddenly, the alien was staring down at a sword that was shoved into its chest, all the way up to the hilt. It fell down to reveal England, who then had to brace the body with his foot to get the weapon out. Seeing this, the other two retreated, running back to their transport.

With a grimace, Steve pulled out the laser bolt. He threw it aside, letting out a sigh of relief.

"What," the nation said coldly, addressing the boy. "in the name of the demons and monsters in the depths of hell _are you doing here?_"

"I-" the boy started.

"YOU COULD HAVE GOTTEN YOUR HEAD BLASTED OFF, PETER!" Britain roared. "WHAT THE BLOODY HELL WERE YOU THINKING, THAT YOU WOULD BLOW THE BLOODY SHIP UP AND SAUNTER AWAY? STEVE HERE GOT SHOT, IS THAT WHAT YOU WANTED? AND WHERE IN THE NAME OF THE BLEEDING SAINTS DO TINO AND BERWALD THINK YOU ARE RIGHT NOW-?"

"I'M NOT A CHILD, YOU JERK!" Peter screamed, as tears started rolling down his cheeks. He wiped them away viciously. "I'm a nation!"

At this, Arthur's gaze softened. He knelt down and took the boy gently by the shoulders. He wiped away a tear that rolled down the child's face. Arthur sighed.

"You're a _micro_nation," he began. "But Sealand- Sealand, look at me-"

The boy looked up at him defiantly. The similarities between the two were remarkable. They had the same messy hair, enormous eyebrows, and burning gaze. In fact, the only things that kept the boy from looking like the nation's former self were his eye color and his wheat blonde hair.

"There's a hospital down that street," England gestured behind him. "Peter, you _must_ get out of here."

"But I-"

"No!" the nation looked around hurriedly; the aliens had started to regroup. They moved into an aggressive formation. "Listen to me for one bloody minute! Matthew is there. You do know Canada, correct? You should be safe with him. Now _GO!_"

Arthur shoved the boy in the direction of the hospital.

"You can't tell me what to do, you jerk of jerks..." Peter muttered half heartedly. He glanced at the aliens that were slowly closing in. After a moment's hesitation, he turned around and ran down the street.

"That bleeding little idiot..." Arthur breathed an almost indistinguishable sigh of relief at the kid's retreating back. He turned to Steve and offered his hand. "Do you need medical attention?"

Steve looked down at his leg. It was hard to see past all the blood, but it didn't seem to be _too _ deep...

"Eventually," he decided, taking the nation's hand and pulling himself up. He limped a few steps and ripped off some cloth that was sticking out of a pile. Wincing, he quickly tied it around his calf as a bandage.

The aliens were only a hundred meters away by that time. It seemed like their numbers had doubled.

Steve leaned against part of a broken building, trying to keep painful weight off his injury.

"You're in no fit state to fight..." Britain said, more to himself than Steve.

Steve saw a flash of sadness and remorse in his grass green eyes before they went back to being determined. Steve had seen that look before, when soldiers thought one of their comrades was probably going to die. The Captain stood up straighter and readied his shield, ignoring the throbbing pain in his leg. Steve wasn't going to die that day, and if he did, there was no way in hell he was going down without a fight. The nation nodded with understanding.

Suddenly, they heard three things land behind them. Arthur whirled around, ready to cut their heads off. Upon seeing who it was, the former pirate stopped immediately, his blade not even a centimeter from Ludwig's neck.

"Oh, terribly sorry." Arthur said nonchalantly. He put down his sword.

"Ich fine." the German said. "Ve have more important things to worry about."

England nodded. The four nations and Steve backed into a defensive circle (Russia, Steve noted, was entirely clean of blue blood except for the stained fingertips of his gloves. He would have shivered, but the nation was standing right next to him, so he didn't want to make any sudden movements). The aliens surrounded them. They lifted their guns.

Suddenly, large explosions lit up the sky. The aliens whipped around.

The mothership was on fire, chunks of metal falling to the ground. Another blast ripped the remaining part into pieces. The aliens seemed to shut down, their long heads falling onto their bony chests.

The entire battle was over in less than thirty seconds. The nations (and human) were frozen, mouths agape.

"Well, that was fun. I will be going back to my hotel room now, da?" Russia said happily. He pushed past one of the lifeless aliens and started walking away. He stopped and picked something off the ground, yelling in delight. "Aliens were attacking, and now a sunflower! This is one of the greatest days I have been having in a very long time."

The others watched him walk off.

"Creepy git." Arthur muttered once the other nation was out of earshot. "Come on, let's check on Alfred."

.:i:.

"...Mattie?"****  
><strong>**

The Canadian's head shot up at the sound of his brother's voice.

"Ve~! He's waking up!" Feliciano said in delight.

France ran to the window. "Ze aliens 'ave stopped zeir attack!"

Matthew took Alfred's hand in his. "Y-Yeah, Al, I'm here."

America's eyelids fluttered. His hand closed around his twin's. Without opening his eyes, he continued. "You're here... And France and Italy... Sealand, too..." his eyes slowly opened. "Where's England?"

Canada almost asked about Sealand, but decided it didn't matter. "Arthur's out fighting right now... Alfred, you were attacked."

Alfred looked at him blankly for a moment. Suddenly, all the memories rushed back, seeming to finally, really wake him up.

"It was aliens again," he snarled. "Seriously, this is the third time!" he pulled a shotgun seemingly out of nowhere and tried to sit up. "Are they still here?"

"No, they're gone." Matthew assured him. "They beat them."

"Who's 'they'?"

.:i:.

Steve was starting to worry.

"Have any of you seen Tony anywhere?" he asked, looking around. They had gotten to the hospital and there had still been no sign of Iron Man.

"_Nein,_" Ludwig said next to him. He had graciously offered to be Steve's support on the walk back. "The last I saw of him vas over an hour ago."

"I have seen him." Japan said solemnly.

"Where? When?"

"I am afraid that he was flying towards the mothership before it exproded."

"But that could mean..." Steve started. It could mean that Tony got caught in the explosion, too. It could mean that his suit had gotten broken into pieces. It could mean that Howard Stark's child and Steve's only true friend in this strange world was gone.

"I'm sorry." Arthur put a hand on his shoulder.

Suddenly, Steve heard a strange, hissing laughter. He turned toward the sound and gave a cry of joy.  
>Tony was in the corner of the lobby half supported by another man. The millionaire's suit was badly damaged; there were scorch marks and dented areas, his visor seemed to be permanently stuck open, and there were a few pieces missing from the armor, but he was alive! And seemed to be telling jokes to the man helping him walk.<strong><strong><br>****

Steve looked at him. The man was clearly albino; he had silver hair and shockingly red eyes. He wore a scorched and crinkled button-up shirt, a small teutonic cross hanging from a chain around his neck. A cocky grin stretched across his face, and his eyes were lit up with a triumphant gleam.

"Oi! _Bruder!_" the albino man yelled, waving to them. His German accent was thicker than Germany's himself. "Ve just saved all of your completely unawesome asses! No one can defeat the AWESOME PRUSSIA!"

"He means that _I_ saved all your asses and he just helped out a little bit." Tony quipped.

"Gilbert," Ludwig said, once they came closer. "Vhat are you doing here?"

"Vhat, you expected me to schtay with Mr. Unawesome-Austrian-stick-up-my-ass?" Gilbert scoffed. "Bitch please. By the vay, as payment for my awesome conquering of the aliens, I vill now bestow upon myself ALL OF NEW YORK!"

"What?" Steve exclaimed while the other nations just rolled their eyes.

Prussia turned his crimson gaze onto Steve, as if he just noticed him. He studied his face for a moment, his scarlet eyes flitting over his features, a trace of recognition in them. Suddenly, he burst out laughing.

"This is the friend you vere talking about?" the nation asked Tony. He let out another hissing laugh. "Skesesese! This is Captain America! That little brat took out our entire Hydra forces during World War Two! You remember, West?"

Ludwig cleared his throat and looked at the ground. His voice was only just above a whisper. "Those times are in the past, _bruder_." the nation said, a warning edge in his voice. He looked into his brother's eyes. "And I am grateful for vhat the Captain did."

Steve felt a blush creep onto his cheeks.

"Well then," Arthur said, breaking up the awkward silence. He gestured to Tony and Steve. "You two need medical assistance, Gilbert needs to leave, and I'm going upstairs to see my boyfriend." he started to walk away. "Cheerio."

As the doctors started to come receive Steve and Tony, the millionaire turned to the super-soldier.

"So..." Tony said. "After we get out of here, you wanna go get some fondue?"

* * *

><p>Translation:<p>

_frère- _brother

_mon cheri-_ my darling

_mon petit ours de d'érable- _my little maple bear

**Yay for epic battles! This was my favorite chapter to write by far.**

**Thanks for all the reviews, alerts, etc. Y'know, you guys are really awesome!**


	8. Chapter 8

"Good morning, sir." JARVIS said politely. "It is ten o'clock."

Steve shot awake and jumped to his feet, once again startled by the disembodied butler. realizing it was just the A.I., he sighed and sat down on his bed.

"You do not seem fully awake. Would you like me to allow you a few more minutes to continue sleeping?"

"No, I'm fine." Steve sighed. "Thank you, Jarvis."

"Of course, sir."

It had been three days since the attack. After getting medical attention and making sure that Alfred and the rest of the G8 were okay, Steve and Tony had dinner and finally went home. When Steve arrived at his apartment building, however, he discovered that half of it had been entirely demolished, including his own living space. When he told Tony, the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist immediately insisted the super-soldier move into a fully-furnished floor in Stark Tower. When Steve offered to pay rent, Tony waved him off.

"You wouldn't be able to afford it if you started selling calendars where you only wear a five-by-seven inch American flag." he had proclaimed.

And so, Steve was now permanently living on the 92nd floor, with far more space than he had use for and tons of furniture he would never sit in. Tony seemed to have already planned for Steve's move-in (which creeped the Captain out just a little bit), as the entire apartment was decorated in a comforting mix of modern and 40's style.

Steve got dressed into a pair of sweatpants and a plain white t-shirt. He stretched before dropping down and doing a few push-ups. Finally feeling awake, he walked over to the elevator. Getting in, he pushed '93'.

The 93rd floor was in between Tony's penthouse (on the 95th floor) and Steve's apartment (Pepper usually stayed on the 94th floor unless she was with Tony). It had the second-largest living area (Tony's was the biggest), and the largest kitchen, so it had become a sort of common area, where they ate and generally hung out.

Steve stepped out of the elevator and instantly gagged. Foul black smoke drifted above his head. He pulled his shirt over his nose and mouth, trying to block out the disgusting burning smell. He followed the smoke trail and sprinted to the source.

Steve turned the corner just in time to see England assault the stove with a fire extinguisher. Once the flames were put out, the island nation reached into the chemical-foam-covered oven and pulled out a sheet of what looked like burnt rocks. One of them spontaneously caught fire. He quickly doused it with water. The nation then slid the soggy, burnt substance onto a plate and set it on the counter with a flourish.

"Good morning!" England greeted Steve cheerfully, with a smile bigger than any the superhero had seen him wear before. "Would you like a scone?"

"Um..." Steve's eyes flitted between the tray and the nation. He shifted uncomfortably, looking for an escape.

England's smile widened, giving Steve the uneasy feeling that he was about to go for his neck.

"Sure..." Steve said nervously. He sat down at the counter and picked up one of the gray lumps. England watched him intently, happy someone had accepted his cooking. The superhero slowly lifted the "food" to his mouth...

Only to have it to be violently batted out of his hand. Steve breathed a sigh of relief.

"OH MY GOD ARTHUR, ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL HIM?!"

"Alfred!" Steve greeted his savior cheerfully. "I'm glad to see you're feeling better."

"Thanks, dude, I really am!" America responded, clapping him on the back. He pushed his bangs back to reveal thin, pink scratches where the cuts used to be. "See? New York's starting to rebuild. I actually got out of the hospital a couple of days ago. Good thing, too, huh? Else I wouldn't have been here to heroically save you from Death by English Food-!"

"MY COOKING ISN'T THAT BAD, YOU DOLT!"

"Oh god, what's that smell?" Tony said, stepping out of the elevator. He coughed and pulled his oil-stained Metallica shirt over his nose. "Are one of the labs on fire, or something? Jarvis!"

"Yes sir?"

"Is something on fire?"

England was fuming.

"Not at the moment, sir. Approximately two minutes ago the contents of the oven were aflame, but it was quickly handled by Sir Kirkland."

"Oh. Okay. Air out the room, if you can." Tony pulled his shirt down. He winked at England and patted him on the arm, ignoring the death glare the nation was giving him. "Thanks for taking care of that, Artie."

Arthur's left eye twitched. Tony picked up a scone.

"So what d'you-" Tony took a bite of the supposed pastry. His eyes widened and he immediately started to choke, tears dripping down his cheeks. "Oh- Oh my god, WHAT THE FUCK DID I JUST PUT IN MY MOUTH?"

He ran over to the sink, desperately spitting out the gray sludge. He rinsed his mouth out repeatedly before he leaned against the counter, gasping for breath.

Alfred burst out laughing. Arthur looked like he couldn't decide between a smirk and a scowl. The island nation opened his mouth to say something, but was cut short by the artificial butler.

"Sir, you have an incoming call from S.H.E.I.L.D.." JARVIS announced.

"Psh," Tony waved it off. "Reje-"

"-Accept." Steve commanded, shooting Tony a triumphant smirk.

"We've found an alien." a S.H.E.I.L.D. agent said efficiently, without greeting. "It's being held in Sub-Level Interrogation Room E. Report to base for the questioning. It will begin in an hour." they hung up with a sharp_ click._

"That is so freakin' AWESOME!" America said excitedly. "It's like you guys are Men in Black, or something, and getting summoned to your awesome super-secret base! Can I come with you guys? Please? I mean, there's a freaking alien there!"

"Don't see why not," Tony said, grinning.

"I suppose I'll go, as well." England rolled his eyes and threw his scones in the trash.****  
><strong>**

"Can we get breakfast afterwards? I'm freakin' starving!" America led the way into the elevator.

"But... Guys..." Canada said to the now-empty kitchen. He heard the elevator doors shut. "I just made pancakes..."

.:.

Steve and Tony rode the elevator into the secure sub-levels of the headquarters. Security held up the nations, but they assured the heroes they would be fine and meet them in the interrogation room shortly.

"So..." Steve started. "Why was England making scones at ten o'clock in the morning in Stark Tower?"

"Those things were _scones?_" Tony exclaimed in disbelief. He shrugged. "I dunno, 'cause he wanted to?"

"Why were they in Stark Tower to begin with? I mean, it's great that they're there, but..."

"Oh! Alfred's apartment and the hotel that the nations were staying in both got destroyed. So I, the generous person that I am, offered Stark tower as living area and a location for their upcoming World Meeting." Tony paused, thinking. They walked out of the elevator. "Although now that you're living with me, I think I'm gonna rename it 'Avengers Tower'. I mean, I might as well, since I never got around to getting the 'Stark' sign repaired... Maybe I could even convince Natasha and Clint to move into the honeymoon suite I've got set up for them! If Bruce moved in, I'd have to Hulk-proof the glass..."

Steve started laughing until he looked at Tony. The billionaire was completely serious.

"Really?" he asked, eyebrows raised. "'Avengers Tower'?"

"Why not?" Tony smirked, pushing open the door to Sub-Level Interrogation Room E. He stopped in the doorway, making Steve look over his shoulder. When he did, the super soldier's jaw dropped.

"What the hell...?"

"I know right," Tony said excitedly, he walked in, not tearing his gaze away from the one-sided window. "I mean, sure, the other ones are aliens, but this guy is an _alien._ He looks like he stepped off of a Roswell tourism promotion!"

Steve nodded. The alien was short, probably just a little taller than Steve's waist at its full height, and slate gray skin covered its naked body (although it didn't seem to have any reproductive parts). Its arms and legs were normal enough, but its hands were missing a finger each and it had weird, slipper-like feet without any toes.

"Morning, boys." Fury greeted them as he walked in.

"Mornin', Nicky!" Tony said cheerfully with a shit-eating grin.

The Director shot Tony with a look that could leave his head smouldering.

"One of our agents spotted him at a NJTP toll booth this morning." Fury said, handing a manilla folder to Steve. He opened it up and couldn't help but laugh.

The pictures were so ridiculous they almost looked fake. The little gray alien was strapped into the driver's seat of a cherry red Mustang, handing money to an unphased-looking toll collector. It was holding the hamburger it was apparently munching on with its other hand (Steve had no clue how it could eat without a mouth), and was trying to drive the car entirely with its feet.

Tony peered over his shoulder and burst out laughing.

"That is the craziest thing I've ever seen!" he exclaimed. "I'm really starting to like this little dude."

"Don't get too attached; he probably isn't staying long." Fury informed them. "It's highly unlikely that he was involved in the latest attack, since the car was traced back to the capital, but we don't want him on the roads. We've already called Thor to come take him home."

"So... Nicky... Why do we have to be here again?" Tony asked.

"We couldn't get any comprehensible photos of the aliens that attacked the other day. We just need you two to make sure that this guy isn't anywhere close to that species." Fury said to Steve. It seemed he had decided to give Tony the silent treatment. Tony looked pleased.

"It's not." Steve said. "It doesn't look anything like the other ones."

"We didn't expect it to. Just to make sure, we're keeping him here until Thor can identify him-"

Suddenly, the Observation doors burst open.

"The hero has arrived!" America announced, England in tow.

Fury smirked, causing the Agents working in the room to get confused, their guns half in their holsters and half out.

"At ease," the director told them. He turned to the nations. "Alfred, Sir Kirkland, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Nothin' really, we're staying in Stark Tower and we heard the call and, I mean, you guys have a freakin' alien which is SO TOTALLY AWESOME so we decided to-" America caught a glimpse of the interrogation room and its occupant. "OH MY GOD! TONY!"

Tony whipped around. "What?"

"Not _you_ Tony, _that_ Tony!" America pointed to the little gray alien. "He's like, my best bud! How'd you guys find him?"

Steve showed him the pictures and explained, although he had no idea how in the world the nation and alien could know each other.

"Yeah, that's just Tony's style. It's no big." America laughed, waving it off. "He probably just got bored and wanted to come up here and chill with me! It's not like he stole the car or anything, either. I let him borrow it sometimes."

"So you're saying that you let this alien, who's name is Tony, house sit for you and borrow a _'67 Mustang convertible?_ Which he drives with his _feet?_" Tony (Stark) asked incredulously.

"Well, yeah." Alfred chuckled nervously. 'I mean, he helped me pay for it, when I first bought it. I still don't know where he got that money..."

"How long has he been staying with you?" Fury demanded.

"Uh..." America put a hand on the back of his head in an awkward gesture. "Sixty-five years? Give or take a few- But don't worry, I checked it with my boss back then if Tony could live with me, and he was totally cool with it, and no one's really bothered me about it since..."

"Well, your boss and I are definitely going to have a nice long discussion this afternoon..." Fury stated, skepticism still etched across his face.

"Honestly," England said, rolling his eyes. "I can assure you, besides being one of the most obnoxious creatures on this planet, Tony poses no threat. He even assisted us once during the Pictonian invasion, not that it matters to you. He isn't stranded, either; he is perfectly capable of going home. It just seems that he would rather to mooch off of Alfred, instead."

Fury considered it for a moment.

"Fine." the director decided. "You can take him home, as long as SHIELD keeps in contact-"

"I HAVE RETURNED TO MIDGARD!" Thor announced, entering the room with a bang. His long cape fluttered in behind him.

"Hey, big guy." Steve smiled.

"Welcome back." Tony (Stark) greeted.

"Hello, my brethren! I am very happy to have returned!" the Asgardian replied, clasping them in a bone-crushing hug. He turned to Fury. "Director, you called for my assistance-?"

"Thor? Thor Odinson?" England asked, pushing America slightly so he could get a better look.

The God of Thunder studied the island nation. Suddenly, recognition lit up his face.

"_Albion?_" Thor asked, an incredulous smile on his face. He quickly strode over and encased the nation in a bear hug.

"England, now." the nation wheezed once he was released. He chuckled, regaining his voice. "I haven't been called Albion for millennia."

'When I last saw you, you were a mere child! How have you been since then?"

"Quite well, actually. I got captured by Roman Empire, escaped from Roman Empire, messed around with Druids for awhile, fought with my brothers, beat France's cheesy arse hundreds of times, became a pirate, found some colonies, became an Empire, lost the Empire, led the Industrial Revolution, fought in a few World Wars and now I'm hosting the Olympics. What about you?"

"I led a battle against the Frost Giants, got banished to Earth, defended Asgard when my brother found out he was adopted, helped defend Earth against my brother and the Chutari, and I have now officially become Guardian of Midgard. Is Nóregr still in existence?"

"Norway? You mean you haven't spoken to him since your return to Earth? The man practically worships you! He's coming to the World Conference in a few days, he would certainly be happy to see you-"

"Look, it's great that you guys are catching up and stuff, but can we go get some food now? I feel like I can see my ribs, or something." America whined, Tony (the alien) at his elbow.

"Is he coming along?" England asked disdainfully, gesturing at the gray-skinned extraterrestrial.

"Shut the fuck up, fucking limey. I'll kill you, you fucking limey." Alien Tony threatened monotonically with a high-pitched voice. Steve blushed a deep scarlet at the language.

"And you say he's not a threat?" Fury raised an eyebrow.

"He does this a lot." England sighed, ignoring the quiet _"bitchbitchbitchbitchbitchbit ch"_ that the small alien muttered.

"I love this little guy!" Tony (Stark) said between bouts of laughter. Alien Tony gave him a high five.

"I don't get what your guys' problem is," America said, looking at them with puzzlement. "He's just recommending a burger joint."

Tony laughed harder.

England sighed, dragging them all out the door.

"Come on," he said. "We've got to get back to the Tower before the rest of the world arrives."

Steve paled. "The _world?_"

"Didn't I tell you?" Tony asked him, grinning. "Almost two hundred nations are staying with us this week."

Steve suddenly felt like he was going to faint.

* * *

><p>No Translations this chapter.<p>

**I gotta admit, this chapter was mostly filler. But Yay for Thor! And Mustangs! And Avengers Tower! And aliens! And scones! And- Okay I'll shut up now. **

**Thank you for the 100+ reviews! I love you guys!**


	9. Extra: Albion and Thor

Extra: Albion and Thor

Albion shivered. He pulled his cloak tight against himself and huddled into the dead leaves. His faerie friends flitted around him anxiously, trying to help. Their magic warmed the child slightly, but it didn't deter the bone-chilling cold.

The small nation desperately wanted to return to his small cottage, where fire and warmth and well-cooked meat would be waiting for him. But he couldn't. His brothers were there. They were taller and stronger than he was. They would beat and kick him, throw rocks at his face. France, the only person who might take his side, had left a few days ago, and he wouldn't be coming back for awhile. Albion had no way to defend himself.

"Come out, come out, ma wee brither..." Alba sang menacingly. Albion gasped. "Ah know yer around here somewhere..."

Thankfully they were on Albion's land, so his older brother wouldn't be able to tell where he was without looking. He was close, though. He would find Albion soon enough if the little nation didn't move.

Albion jumped up and ran, heading for a hollow tree where he knew he could hide. He sprinted as fast as his short legs could take him. Suddenly, his cloak caught on something, jerking him back. He swung into the air.

"Gotcha! Ha! Ye can't run from me!" Alba lifted his brother high, not caring when thorns scratched the child's face. His teeth glinted in the moonlight when he grinned, giving him a wolfish look. Even in the dark of night, his red hair looked like it was aflame.

"Let me go!" Albion screamed. He flailed his legs uselessly, and beat his tiny fists against his brother's chest. "Put me down!"

Albion started crying, thinking of the abuse to come. He turned his face away, desperately wiping the evidence off his face. Crying would gain him no sympathy. Tears would only make his pain worse.

Suddenly, Albion gasped and looked at the sky. Something was entering his land. It was strange. It was foreign in a way that other nations never could be. Whatever it was, it didn't belong to their world.

The young country was so focused he didn't feel it when his brother threw him against the ground. He didn't hear the bones in his wrist _snap_. As soon as his feet touched the grass, Albion started running.

The hairs on his neck stood on end as he got closer to the strange thing. Clouds gathered. It was as if the strange thing was the spirit of thunder itself.

He could hear his brother chasing after him, but for once, Albion didn't care. He just ran faster.

Finally, he broke into a clearing. The trees surrounding it were smoking and burnt, as if they had been struck with lightning simultaneously. Some were broken into a stump. Power hung thick in the air.

In the exact center of the clearing was a blond man. But he wasn't. Albion could tell that, no matter how he appeared, the man was far more than human or nation. He was kneeling, as if he had just landed from somewhere. Foreign symbols that wreaked of magic were under his feet and cape. His armor was made of a strange metal, which seemed to glow slightly.

Suddenly, the strange man stood up. He slowly turned around to face Albion. The nation felt like he should hide, but he was frozen in place. Ice blue eyes locked onto forest green. For a few minutes they just stared, trying to figure the other out. Finally, the strange armored man grinned. He had a nice smile, Albion decided. As if the man was actually happy to see him. Albion smiled back.

"_Hei, barn au jorden._" the man said.

Albion's eyes widened. The language the man spoke was that of the northern invaders. They pillaged and burned him; they destroyed Albion's villages. Although it felt like the strange man would do him no harm, if he was affiliated with them, he could not be trusted.

Albion stumbled backwards. His cloak caught on sticks and brambles. Thorns cut his feet. He turned and ran.

He kept glancing over his shoulder, but, although he was still in sight of the clearing, the strange man hadn't followed him. Albion let out a sigh of relief.

"There ya are!"

Alba grabbed Albion by his broken wrist, causing the boy to scream in pain. His brother gave a cruel grin. He pulled him into the air, straining the bones even further.

"Stop! Stop, brother! PLEASE!" Albion cried. All he could feel was pain. This was the worst his brother had done to him yet, and if this was how it started, Albion knew there was even worse to come. "Someone, help me! HELP!"

Suddenly he was pulled out of his brother's hands. Sobbing, Albion clutched his savior, burying his face in their shoulder. The cloth was soft, softer than he had ever felt. Strong arms wrapped around his tiny body, holding him protectively.

"That is no way to treat a brother." Albion looked up. It was the strange man, but this time he was speaking a language that he could understand. His eyes and words were filled with a fury and power that scared the young nation, but they were directed at Alba, not him. "Or anyone, for that matter."

"Who are you?" Alba asked, his voice curious and defiant. He must have sensed the foreigner's strangeness by now.

"I am Thor, Son of Odin." the man said, and the name seemed to crackle in the air. "I have more power than you can imagine, and I am commanding you to leave my presence."

Sensing the truth behind his words, Alba gave him one last look and ran off into the forest.

Albion allowed himself to be carried back to the clearing. His wrist throbbed painfully. It wasn't healing in the right position.

"Are you hurt, Young One?" Thor, Son of Odin, asked him gently.

"Yes," Albion replied, wincing. "My wound didn't heal right. B-But I can fix it! I don't need anymore help."

"You should not have to do that yourself," Thor said, frowning. He gently set Albion down. "Especially as a child of your age."

"I can do it!" Albion insisted. He found a blank patch of dirt and started drawing intricate symbols. "And I'm not a child. Not by human standards, anyway."

"Oh?" Thor's eyebrows raised. "Are you like Nóregr?"

"Who?" Albion drew a circle.

"It was his language that I spoke upon our first meeting."

"Oh. Northvegia?" Albion added a few lines. "Yes. He's like me and my brothers."

"And what is your name?" Thor sat down cross-legged. He watched the nation draw.

"My name is Albion." Albion put the finishing touches on the runes. "My brothers are Alba, Gwalia, and Éirinn." he shivered slightly and looked up at Thor with a worried expression. "You won't bring me back to my brothers, will you?"

"Certainly not!" Thor declared. "They are not fit to have a brother as kind-hearted as you."

Albion didn't respond. He sat down in the middle of the circle and started to chant softly. He closed his eyes, feeling the magic flow through his veins like cool water through a stream. Thor watched the boy, not the slightest bit surprised when the circle started pulsing and glowing.

"You remind me of my younger brother, Loki." the man said thoughtfully. Magical wind rustled Albion's hair. "He is very good at magic, as well. He is not yet old enough to travel to Midgard with me. This is only my second travel here, myself."

"Where are you from?" Albion asked as the magic died down. When he opened his eyes, they were glowing like twin emerald fires. He looked at Thor with curiosity. "You not from my world, are you?"

"No, I am not."

"I didn't think so."

The circle turned dark. Albion's messy hair lay down again. His eyes returned to their normal deep green.

"Are you now well?" the other-worlder asked.

"Yes." Albion rubbed his wrist. "I think so."

"Then I must return to Asgard." Thor walked over to the young nation. Albion once again allowed him to pick him up.

"Heed my words, Little One: although your path may be daunting, hold fast," he smiled warmly. "Stay strong, and you may one day be great."

Albion nodded. Thor set him down at the edge of the clearing.

"Goodbye, Thor Odinson," the nation said. He hesitated before adding, "Thank you."

"Farewell, young Albion."

Albion watched as the large runes covering the ground glowed. Thunder boomed in the distance, and the wind picked up. The clouds circled above them, but moonlight still shone brightly on the clearing. Thor flew up into them and disappeared from sight.

After a few moments, Albion tore his gaze from the dissipating clouds. He turned back to the forest, his face was set with firm determination.

One day, he would be great.

* * *

><p>Translations:<p>

_Hei, barn au jorden_- Hello, child of Earth

Albion- Early/poetic name for England

Alba- Early/poetic name for Scotland

Nóregr- Early/poetic name for Norway

Northvegia- Old English name for Norway

Gwalia- Early/poetic name for Wales

Éirinn- Early/poetic name for Ireland

**Poor Albion :( I just wanted to put a little thing in on how Thor met England. It's probably not historically correct (besides the Thor part, I mean), but I don't care. (I DO WHAT I WANT, BEYOTCH!) Your regularly programmed chapter will resume probably later than usual, since school's starting soon. This is consolation for the possibly longer period of waiting time.**

**Thanks for all the reviews, favs, and follows**


	10. Chapter 9: COMING SOON

Don't worry!

This isn't one of those "Omg I'm so sorry I won't be able to finish this" notes!

In fact, I have good news:

**THE FINAL ARC OF COURAGEOUS IDIOT IS COMING SOON!**

It should be up within the next week or two (depending on how busy I get), but it WILL BE UP WITHIN THE NEXT MONTH FOR SURE.

Please note that, although I will try to duplicate it as much as I can without feeling like I'm carving my eyes out with a spoon, it will not be in exactly in the same style as the previous chapters. My style has changed (and hopefully improved) a lot in the past three years.

Thank you so much for all of your support throughout the years! I honestly was just going to cancel this fic, but since it has received such constant affection, I figured that I owe it to you all to finish it. Thank you! I love you guys, for real.

Stay tuned for the next installment of Courageous Idiot!


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